Pathway to Divorce: Activities Couples Should Avoid

** Originally written in July, 2012*

My relationship with Hubs is a solid one. I love him and the thought of losing my beloved scares all bodily fluids out of me. However, there are some activities even the most dedicated and in love couples should not do together... because simply put, they are the pathway to divorce.

Hang wall paper. My parents almost got divorced over this twenty-six years ago. You can imagine their disappointment when my high school boyfriend decided he should play "butt-pinball" will my baby brother thrown over his shoulder and he bounced my brother's ass off the walls and ultimately straight through the wall and the wallpaper.

Shop for Televisions. Forget about what type to buy. Plasma, LED, LCD... is that even right? I don't know and frankly, my Dear, I don't give a damn. Just get me a tv that is the right size. This is probably the only time you will hear me say, "Smaller is better" unless we're talking about tumors or my dress size, of course.

Assembling Anything. Here it is people. Avoid the AA of marriage. Just don't do it. It'll never come out right and you'll always have extra parts left over. In case your married to a doc too, here's a friendly piece of advice... Don't look at the extra screws in your hand and ask your doctor Hubs if he finds himself with extra parts after surgery. Just don't do it.

Move furniture. Specifically, move furniture upstairs. You have a bad back and your wonderbrain husband tells you, you don't have to "lift" you just have to "slide" the furniture "up" the stairs. You say things don't "slide" up; they slide "down". He say's he'll do the pushing, you just "guide". You see him tilt the damn thing on it's side and you KNOW with CERTAINTY this shananigan will end disastrously. Something is going to break or get damaged...your back, his back, the dresser, the newly textured and painted walls, the new hardwood flooring, stairs, banister, a combo, or quite possibly everthing in its path. You bitch, you moan, you groan, you give the stink eye, you hiss and piss all over this stupid brainchild of your husband. But you unwillingly participate, because if you don't and it all goes to hell, you'll be blamed for your lack of help. You hate him at the bottom of the stairs... and you absolutely detest him at the top of the stairs because, DAMMIT to hell! It worked. Like a charm. But you decide to be mad anyways....because, it was a stupid idea and it should not have worked.

The Hairband, The Toilet, & the Toothbrush

I was in a sleepy, Sunday morning, slumber when Hubs stumbled from bed towards the bathroom. I laid in my warm little cocoon trying to find my way back to the sandman.

The door to the bathroom shut (loudly) and just as quickly as he entered, the door re-opened.

"Elaina! Why is you hairband in the toilet?!"

I tried to open my eyes, but all I could muster was a squint as I was bombarded with Sunday morning sunshine.

I wrestled within sleepy myself to find my voice "Ugh! I don't know!" How in the hell am I supposed to know anything at this early hour?

Hubs was already fumbling down the hall to the kids bathroom. "Well, you need to fish it out!"

{Good Morning to you, too, my love. Sleep bully. Sleep bully. Sleep bully!}

The door to the hall bath shuts (loudly).

{Hey, man! I'm trying to sleep! Don't you worry, I'll fish it out. I'll fish it out alright! I know exactly how I'll do it, too!}

Just then I hear the bathroom door open and Hubs yells, "And don't use my toothbrush, either!"

Darn!

Plan foiled.

Fine!

Where's his hairbrush?

I Thought I Was Done With That

I came home today to find our eldest daughter, a twenty-one year old college student and nanny, and our third daughter, a high school junior, studying together.

After that horrendous first year at an out-of-state college, and bumpy second year, our eldest was ready to return home. While she shares an off-campus apartment with our second college-student daughter, we thoroughly enjoy the fact they spend most of their free time at our house (even if it is just to eat our food).

Eldest is a young lady, going after her degree and working as an after-school nanny for a kindergartner and pre-schooler who live very near our home.

Since she's come home, she seems to be in a better place emotionally and physically. She's hit her stride. Except for about four dinners a week, she no longer needs me. So, tonight threw me back a bit.

I walked in our home from the garage yelling, "Hello???"

Eldest came busting down the stairs. "ELAINA! {She's been my step-daughter since she was ten}I need to ask you to help me with something!!"

She smiled a smile making me apprehensive about blindly agreeing to offer my help. But, I'm the mom, so without regard for my safety, I agreed.

"The kids came home with lice! I need you to check me for lice!"

Ugh. I found myself in the backyard wearing rubber gloves, picking through her hair with a fine tooth comb.

Nit picking for lice... I thought I was done with that.

Spousal Chatter (In the Garden)

**Originally written July, 2012**

Bigger than a bridal bouquet

I was out front watering my flowers in the garden, when Hubs came home from the hospital and pulled into the driveway.

After parking the car in the garage, he came back out to say hello and make a close inspection of my and our gardner's work.

He approved of the work, complimenting my green thumb. As he was heading back inside the house, he paused at our juniper...

"Oh, look! He shaved your bush."